The Wayward
by LOTR-nutcase
Summary: Rana of Rohan has sorrow in her past, but she manages to put it behind her. Until a stranger from the North arrives in Edoras, that is.
1. The Northerner

**Author's Note:** You ever hear one of those songs that almost makes you cry? It's silly, but this one does. I listened to it (Garth Brooks, btw) for the first time in years tonight. I had to replay it three times because it was so intense. I felt so inspired, that I just sat down to start writing, and came up with this. Hope you like it!

Sorry, LSOA! _Fishing_, though I've started it, will just have to wait. This plot bunny is evil...

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_She was a girl on a wagon train  
Headed west across the plains  
The train got lost in a summer storm  
They couldn't move west and they couldn't go home  
Then she saw him ridin' through the rain  
He took charge of the wagons and he saved the train  
And she looked down and her heart was gone  
The train went west but she stayed on  
In Lonesome Dove  
  
A farmer's daughter with a gentle hand  
A blooming rose in a bed of sand  
She loved the man who wore a star  
A Texas Ranger known near and far  
So they got married and they had a child  
But times were tough and the West was wild  
So it was no surprise the day she learned  
That her Texas man would not return  
To Lonesome Dove  
  
Back to back with the Rio Grande  
A Christian woman in the devil's land  
She learned the language and she learned to fight  
But she never learned how to beat the lonely nights  
In Lonesome Dove, Lonesome Dove  
  
She watched her boy grow into a man  
He had an angel's heart and the devil's hand  
He wore his star for all to see  
He was a Texas lawman legacy  
The one day word blew into town  
It seemed the men that shot his father down  
Had robbed a bank in Cherico  
The only thing 'tween them and Mexico  
Was Lonesome Dove  
_  
_The shadows stretched across the land  
As the shots rang out down the Rio Grande  
And when the smoke had finally cleared the street  
The men lay at the ranger's feet  
But legend tells to this very day  
That shots were comin' from an alleyway  
Though no one knows who held the gun  
There ain't no doubt if you ask someone  
In Lonesome Dove  
Back to back with the Rio Grande  
A Christian woman in the devil's land  
She learned the language and she learned to fight_  
_But she never learned how to beat the lonely nights  
In Lonesome Dove, Lonesome Dove_

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He came for vengeance.

Revenge was too kind a word to describe the cancerous rage that had swirled through his soul for twenty years. It consumed him. He could hide it most of the time; many people did not see anything amiss in his life. Yet there were always those with clearer sight, who could gaze into a man's eyes and see his heart. So it was with the young Lady of Rohan.

He knew, the instant his eyes caught hers in Meduseld, that she could sense his anger. To his surprise, she neither stepped back nor looked away. A look of curiosity and, strangely, understanding came over her. In that moment he felt close to her, a thing that had not happened with anyone since...the night his father was killed.

- - - - - - - - -

Rana watched the travelers enter the hall with her usual curiosity. News from afar was always welcome to her ears, and this party had journeyed all the way from Far Harad. She hoped that they might come with tales of exotic cities and people, legends of pagan gods, or at the least a few bolts of foreign cloth. Standing behind her mother's finely carved wooden seat on the dais, she could see the strangers' faces clearly as they approached her father, the King.

The group was a large one. They were dressed plainly, but heavily armed. Or at least, they had been before the guards had requested they remove their weapons. Still, all the men (there were no women, a fact that Rana observed with a hint of annoyance) looked plenty dangerous enough even without swords. Their faces were familiar to her, for these people had been raised in the far North, and were thus distantly akin to her father's people, the Rohirrim.

Rana's eyes fell on the Northerners' leader, and she found that she could neither look nor walk away. The man was no taller than the rest. All were equally well-built, with similar light colored hair and pale blue eyes. A single ornament set him apart from his companions: a thin gold chain from which dangled a ruby drop. Aside from this, he was in such like to his men that from a distance, it would be difficult to tell them apart. Something else held Rana's attention.

She relaxed her mind the way her uncle, Faramir, had taught her; clearing herself of outside influences and concentrating solely on the man bowing to her father. Emotions and brief images flooded her consciousness. Usually, opening her mind invited a short flow of the impressions the other person was experiencing, washing through her quickly and peacefully, like river-water over a stone. The Northerner's thoughts were far more intense. Suspicion, adrenaline, and anger all radiated from him in waves that, to Rana's Sight-gifted senses, were nearly palpable. Above all, she absorbed the man's incredible pain.

Such pain! Laced with fury, the sensation was all too familiar to the Lady of Rohan. She knew not what caused it, but tears came to her eyes nonetheless as the Northerner finally looked up at her. Clear blue eyes met dark brown ones. Unbidden, memories long suppressed floated to the front of Rana's mind.

_It is not the Sight- but what gives this man such a connection to me?_


	2. Rana's Pain

**Author:** Thanks for the feedback, guys! I appreciate it :) Hopefully, things will become a little clearer in this chapter.

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(Flashback)

"No! Father, don't hurt him!"

Rana raced to the man who lay prone on the tiled floor, shoving her way through a crowd of spectators. He was glaring daggers at her father, who was standing over him, sword in hand. Candlelight glinted on the burnished steel.

"Stand aside, Rana." Eomer did not take his eyes off the younger man, though his daughter knelt next to him.

"Why? What is the meaning of this? Theshar, what is going on?" Rana's gaze flew from Eomer to the cold gray eyes of the man beside her. He was tall and wiry, with no gray yet showing in his black hair. Theshar was thought handsome by the ladies of Edoras, and though he lacked the powerful build of most of Rohirrim, he made up for it with speed and agility in battle.

"Rana, I order you to leave. This matter has passed your concern. Theshar will not leave Edoras alive."

Her shocked gasp split the room.

"No! Father, I love him! Why are you doing this?"

Slowly, Theshar got to his feet, rising to stand behind Rana. Eomer stepped closer.

"One more move and I will kill you here and now, scum." The King grabbed his daughter's arm and shoved her towards her mother. At a loss, Rana allowed herself to be enfolded in the temporary comfort of her mother's arms.

"Please, won't someone tell me what is happening?" The words were whispered softly, pleadingly, into Lothiriel of Rohan's shoulder, but Eomer heard them nonetheless. His anger cooled slightly, long enough for him to realize that his daughter deserved an explanation. There was a pause, then the King addressed not only Rana, but the many observers gathered in the Hall as well.

"The man who stands before me has long posed as a faithful man of Rohan, a foreign-born horseman whose heart was loyal to lord and land. I have discovered tonight that he is nothing more than a treasonous snake. Theshar infiltrated this Hall, enlisted in the cavalry, and even went so far as to ask for the hand of Rana, Lady of Rohan and my own blood, in marriage. All of this was a calculated scheme to gain the trust and freedom of all who witness this." Emotion was thick in Eomer's voice. He broke off for a moment, sword point ready at Theshar's neck.

Another young man came forward through the crowd. There was no mistaking him for anything but a Marshal of Rohan: his golden hair was long and thick, his green eyes were bright, and his face was amazingly similar to the King's own in his youth.

"Your rage is deserved, Father, but I would decry this man to the public, if you will allow it." Elfwine's voice was low and determined, but belied sadness. Eomer nodded.

"Theshar came into my rooms this evening, knife drawn, and foolishly tried to assassinate me in my sleep."

There was a collective gasp from the watchers. Angry voices called out threats to Theshar and suggestions of appropriate punishments. Elfwine gestured for them to be silent.

"Clearly, Theshar failed. However, it is not the attempt on my life that fills my father and I with such a lust for vengeance, it is the wrong done to my family and especially my sister. This man led a young, innocent woman to believe that he loved her, and caused her to give her heart to him, all the while plotting to overthrow her father and use her to usurp the throne of her country. It is a cowardly man who would try to kill one he had begun to call brother." Elfwine looked into Theshar's eyes for a long time, then shook his head. "You know the penalty your crimes bring. Are there any here that would deny his doom?"

No one spoke.

Four soldiers stepped forward at the King's command to take charge of the prisoner. He held his head high, not daring to struggle as he was led outside.

"Wait!" The guards stopped. Eomer and Elfwine turned to face the voice that had called them back. Lothiriel tried to hold back her daughter, but to no avail. "I would look into Theshar's eyes and know that what my brother speaks is true."

The crowd parted before the young woman, born forward by pride alone, as she approached the man the soldiers held.

"Theshar...what Elfwine says...is it true you tried to kill him? That you used me?" She looked deeply into his steely eyes, hoping for some sign that it was all a horrible mistake.

"Rana," He cried passionately, "It is all a lie! There are enemies of Rohan, they are using me to cover their own machinations...you must believe me! I love you still, Rana." Finally releasing some emotion, Theshar thrashed against his captors as they forced him outside. "Please, Rana! Help me! Stop them!"

She burst into tears, for the last time.

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(That Night)

The prisoner was to be executed at dawn. Many guards patrolled the shack he was confined to. They were the best soldiers Rohan had to offer, but none of them had refused their drugged ale at dinner, and thus none noticed the shadowy figure that slipped from a nearby bush to the door. Silently, the door was unlocked and the figure walked inside. In a matter of moments, the prisoner was untied and running for his freedom.

"Theshar!" Rana called softly. "Wait! Take me with you, I beg of you!"

The man who answered her was not the same one who had begged for her aid that afternoon. This man was cold, harsh, and laughed chillingly in the night.

"My beautiful, stupid girl. I am eternally grateful for your kind assistance in my escape, but frankly, if I never see you again, I will not mind. Your face is lovely, and your naiveté had its uses, but such a helpless woman would never make a decent companion for the likes of me. Give your father my best."

"Theshar! I don't understand...what are you saying?"

"Your brother is a lighter sleeper than I had reckoned for. But this will not be the last night he and I meet."

"You mean, it was true? What Elfwine said...there was no mistake?" Rana made no attempt to keep her voice down now, as confusion and grief clouded her mind. "You never...never cared for me?"

"Of course it was true. It is only a shame I never got the chance to ruin your reputation. That really would have been the most enjoyable part."

Rana's screams brought soldiers from every direction, but it was too late. The traitor was gone.

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**Stay Tuned!** The next installment will tell, if all goes according to plan, what exactly all this has to do with the Northerner. :) Please review!


	3. Vása's Home

**Notes:** Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I love 'em :)

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Vása bowed to the King of Rohan. Eomer nodded in return; Queen Lothiriel inclined her head and gave a slight smile; Lady Rana looked intently at the far wall as her face slowly regained its color.

"Vása, your name is known to me, as is your reputation but not your errand. I granted your men passage through Rohan. I am surprised you chose to visit Edoras at all. What business brings you here?"

There were scarcely any people in the Hall. A few servants darted in and out, passing through on their way to other errands. Four soldiers were positioned near the door. Underneath one of the high windows three older men sat at a small table and observed the visitors.

"I desire counsel and a form of aid, my Lord, but I would speak of the matter in private." Vása looked pointedly at the other occupants of the Hall. He waited for Eomer's answer and stole another sidelong glance at the King's daughter.

Rana saw his gaze flicker towards her and blushed. She was beautiful, Vása noted, but seemed somewhat aloof. Her golden hair was pulled into a tight knot at the base of her neck, exposing a noble face with chin held high. Dark brown eyes were framed by long lashes: her father's eyes in her mother's face. Slender and tall, she clasped her hands in front of her and neither fidgeted nor bent her back in the least. Yes, she was beautiful, but cold...Vása sensed her well-hidden anger and wondered at the cause. Mayhap this lady would prove useful to him.

With a slight start, Vása realized Eomer was considering him. Instantly, he wiped any sign of curiosity off his face. It would not do for the King to imagine that Vása had intentions towards his daughter. After a moment, Eomer spoke again.

"Very well, lord. Halathain will show you to a room where our words may be private. Your men are free to remain here if they so choose. Rana-" Eomer turned to address his daughter "Would you please find your brother and ask him to join us?"

"Actually, I believe he is out riding with his company this afternoon, Father. They were not due back before dark."

Eomer frowned. "How nice of him to inform me." With a slightly annoyed sigh, he looked at his wife. "Ria?"

The Queen shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, you don't. You know how quickly I tire of politics. Besides, I have a household to run. Rana can sit in."

"Me?" Vása saw the girl's surprised look. He found it quite interesting how quickly this family had slipped into comfortable casualty, even with visitors present.

Eomer hesitated. "If you would like to assist in this talk, you may. I want one of you to be present, at any rate."

"I would be honored, Father." A small smile crossed Rana's face. It occurred to Vása that perhaps she was not cold after all- merely shy.

"Good! Then will you accompany Lord Vása and Halathain to the Western sitting-chamber. Vása-" Eomer turned back to the Northerner "-whatever you may wish to say to me, you may say in front of any member of my family. Rest assured, it will go no further. I will join you momentarily."

A man some ten years older than the King appeared at Vása's side. With a slight bow, he motioned for the Northerner to follow him. With a last nod to Eomer, they set off to the edge of the room, through a double doorway into a torch lit hall. There were scenes painted on the walls, and many tapestries adorned them, but Vása did not have time to examine them as they passed. Three doors later, Halathain turned into a medium-sized room with a fire already laid on the hearth.

"Might I bring you something to eat or drink, my Lord?"

Vása looked around the chamber. "No, thank you." A round table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by eight wooden chairs. There were no windows. Rugs and more tapestries softened the rustic edges, but Vása's overall impression was that many wars had been planned here. Lost in thought, his mind drifted towards the upcoming conversation.

"The people say you have come here from Far Harad."

Vása wheeled around. He had not noticed Rana's entry into the room, and her voice had startled him. Halathain, he noticed, was gone. He released his sword and bowed slightly. "My Lady. I did not realize you were present." Lifting his head, Vása assumed a more relaxed posture. "Yes; my men and I have long been traveling in the South."

"Traveling?" She asked. "Then it is not your home?"

"No." Vása replied. It was not his custom to provide unnecessary information to anyone.

The Lady considered that. "I would know what brings you through Rohan, but that is the matter you wish to discuss with my father, is it not?"

"Yes." Vása tried to change the subject. "And may I ask why the King was desirous of his family's company for this council?"

"Father is no stranger to politics. He prefers to have witnesses to every confidence. His trust in Mother, Elfwine and I is absolute."

Vása's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, remembering Eomer's almost undetectable reluctance to invite his daughter to council. A knock sounded at the door. Rana bade the visitor to enter. Halathain stepped inside, bearing a tray on which were balanced three mugs, a plate of honey-cakes, and a steaming pot of tea.

"Tea!" Vása exclaimed as the steward set his burden upon the table. "A custom I had not expected to see so far south, in this country."

Rana's smile was small but real. "Aye. I fear that the world largely believes we Rohirrim drink naught but ale all day long, but 'tis not so. We are not the barbarians some think us."

"My Lady, I did not mean to insult you."

She waved his apology aside. "Is tea a common drink in your country, then? I know it comes from the North, for it was introduced by my father's friends the Holbytlan."

Vása hesitated, fearful of revealing too much. Eomer might trust his daughter, but the Northerner knew naught of her yet. He settled for a noncommittal grunt.

An awkward silence settled over the room. Without a word, Rana handed Vása a mug of tea and began to sip her own. He watched her back as she stared into the blaze on the hearth. Suddenly, her shoulders tensed and she swung to face him.

"You are from the North. It is obvious from both your face and your speech. Yet you have been journeying in the South, you admit. Your men are dressed for quick travel, but also for war. Your reasons for coming here, Lord Vása, include asking my father for aid. Would this be aid in battle, by chance? We have heard rumors of unrest in the North for several years, ever since the coup that stole the Barrenlands from their ruler..."

"Speak not that name!" Vása's voice was sharp and bitter, accentuating the tension that his coursed through his body at the mention of the Barrenlands. Rana stopped speaking, eyes wide in surprise. He took a deep breath. "You know not what you say." Slowly, as if forcing his muscles to relax from their aggressive stance, he lowered his mug to the table.

Now soft, Rana's voice reached him again. "It is my turn to beg apology, then."

Despite his intention to reveal nothing to the young Lady of Rohan, Vása found that defending his former country's honor was more important than maintaining the secrecy of his mission. Besides, she would know all when her father arrived. He harbored no illusions regarding the foolishness of telling anything less than the utter truth to Eomer Eadig. A formidable enemy himself, the man had the most powerful friends in Middle-Earth.

Which was why Vása was here.

"They are not now, nor have they ever been 'barren', my Lady. The Grey Mountains are merciless to the weak, but those who dwell there have learned to love them."

"Why did you leave, then, if the rumors are not true?"

Vása looked up from the fire sharply, his gaze frighteningly intense. "I was driven out by the Wizard."

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**Me Again:** Sorry it took so long to update! I am SWAMPED right now. :( I'll try to get another chapter up sometime this week. More will be explained in chapter 4! Sorry if it seems convoluted now. Please review!


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